


The Name Game

by minyrrds



Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: M/M, Minyard-Josten Rivalry, Post-Canon, name-switch jerseys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-03 02:22:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6592744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minyrrds/pseuds/minyrrds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when Andrew and Neil change the names on their jerseys</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Name Game

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as [a small prompt of feelings](http://drunk-onbooks.tumblr.com/post/142996389453/ok-proexy-players-andrew-and-neil-arguing-whether) with [maddiy](http://drunk-onbooks.tumblr.com) and here we are 3k later.

In all the moments leading up to his final moments as a Fox, Neil would have never for a second imagined this possibility the summer before his first year at Palmetto State. If anything, he expected to be dead within the year, or still on the run, but anywhere but here. He never thought he’d be given a sliver of a chance at happiness on the back of the threat of death, happiness that began with (but didn’t end with) a small, angry boy with tobacco stained nails and the ghost of a smile on his mouth in the mornings. But here they were, seven years later, both having gone pro, on either sides of the country from each other, and still solidly together.

Jeremy had recruited Neil straight out of his last game of his fifth year (the Foxes had managed to cinch the championships that year, much to Neil’s delight and Kevin’s frustration- they had lost in the middle of the second round of playoffs during his and the cousins’ fifth year). All the former Foxes had been there: Matt, Andrew, and Kevin had taken the night off from their respective teams (a healthy-scratch for all of them that had caused a quiet uproar from the media); Dan had driven down from her assistant coaching job at Columbia with Renee and Alison who were all sharing an apartment together in Manhattan; Aaron and Katelyn coordinated with Nicky and Eric to swing by Upstate Regional to pick them up from their incoming flight as they drove down from UVA’s medical school and showed up together.

The Foxes had managed a triumphant 7-3 win against Penn State, much to everyone’s surprise (and Wymack’s silent, burning pride), but all eyes were on Jeremy Knox as he strode across the court a few minutes after the buzzer had run and the Foxes were still celebrating at the half court line. He held out his hand to Neil who grasped onto it like a lifeboat and tugged him in close for a bear of a hug. Afterwards, it was all anyone could talk about, the moment of quiet, fierce celebration that Neil shared with his new Captain (a few more shallow-minded members of the press had tried to raise a fuss and circulate a rumor about Jeremy possibly cheating on his longtime boyfriend and teammate, Jean Moreau, but those had quickly been put to rest with a photo of Jeremy kissing Jean after their morning run the next day). The press had gone wild with questions for Neil about his plans for going pro and his newly minted contract to play with the Los Angeles Queens (a subtle nod to go along with one of the city’s other popular sports teams). Jeremy hovered in the background; ready to jump in with anything that might be needed, but ultimately took a few steps back to enjoy the unpredictable mess that was Neil Josten’s post-game press conferences.

“Neil, what are your feelings about the impending games against your former teammates that will happen next year now that you’ve joined the Queens?”

Neil’s smile was predatory. “I can’t wait. It’ll be great to see Kevin and Matt on the court again, even if we aren’t playing together.”

Matt had been signed to the New York Eagles because he had wanted to stay close to Dan (they were engaged, but Dan wanted to wait for a summer wedding so all the Foxes could come without rearrainging their schedules with too much difficulty). Kevin had signed with the Houston Sirens (he had been photographed by the press several times in the past few months out on dates with the team’s best backliner, Theodora Muldani). Andrew had mostly bounced around from team to team for his first two years: despite being one of the best goalkeepers in the league, he could never get on well enough with a team to stay past a few months or so. At the point of Neil’s graduation he had been just been traded to the Detroit Rhinos and managed to stay there comfortably until the end of the year when he had beat a teammate so badly for a homophobic slur that had been thrown at Jeremy during a game against the Queens that he was traded to Chicago and had pretty much stayed there since.

“You haven’t commented on your former goalie, Andrew Minyard, who is currently playing for the Chicago Red Wolves.”

Jeremy didn’t think it was possible for Neil’s smile to look more dangerous than it did before (the reporter had visibly shrunk a little under his gaze), but his teeth were all out on display and caught under the glint of the lights.

“I’d rather never have to face him on the court again in my life, but you know, that’s just personal opinion.”

Andrew let out a small huff of air in the closest thing to a laugh Jeremy had ever heard, and he turned his head over his shoulder to watch the bored looking goalkeeper leaning against the back wall, out of sight of any of the press.

“Does this mean that a rivalry has developed between the two of you since his time with the Foxes?” Another daring reporter threw out into the roar of questions.

Neil just raised one amused eyebrow. “Something like that,” and happily ended the press conference, still riding on the buzz of winning the national championships.

 

They spent a year openly hostile with each other, Neil making cryptic and amused quips about Andrew at every possible opportunity and Andrew responding with clear silence and a few almost-assaulted reporters who had approached him with hopes of talking about Neil.

When they finally met on the court a few weeks later, every one of the Queens hovered in the locker room with nervous energy.

Kayla, one of the younger backliners, signed the same year as Neil, went up to Jeremy before they headed out on the court and tugged on his sleeve. “Are you sure Neil’s going to be okay out there?” She was a quiet one and had latched on to Neil with a fierce love that no one had quite been able to understand (her father had been a runner for Nathan and they had played together as kids; she’d been attached to his side from the beginning of training camp).

Jeremy just laughed and gave her a bright smile. “Yeah, don’t you worry, he’s gonna be just fine.”

The game ended in a tense 9-10, Wolves favor. Andrew’s backliners had rammed into Neil so many times he had lost count, hell bent on protecting their goalie from the crazy kid known for being unpredictable and wild on the court. Neil’s legs were sore and bruised from balls that Andrew had aimed at the backs of his caves and thighs (he laughed every time Andrew landed a shot), but he still ran over while the rest of Andrew’s team was celebrating.

Their hushed conversation was watched by everyone, while Andrew and Neil ignored the stares. All of a sudden Neil threw his head back laughing and Andrew shoved his way past him on his way to the locker room, clipping Neil’s shoulder with his racquet on the way there.

 

The press conference afterwards was brutal.

“Neil, how did it feel to be on the same court as Minyard again?”

His feral smile was back out with a vengeance. “An experience.”

“You two had quite the conversation, post game, care to tell us what it was about?”

Neil actually laughed, much to Jeremy’s entertainment. “No.”

The reporter wasn’t fazed by Neil’s short responses and went for blood. “It was clear to anyone watching that Minyard didn’t take too kindly to sharing a court with you, do you have anything to say about that?”

Neil leaned in close to the reporter’s microphone and responded with a threatening look in his eyes: “Next time we’ll win, I can promise you that.”

 

“What if we changed our jerseys?” Neil was lounging on the couch in a pair of Queen’s sweatpants and a faded Foxes shirt with Sir Fat Cat purring on his chest. It was one of those rare nights that Andrew was able to talk (or glare) his way into a healthy scratch and had flown down to LA for the weekend to stay with Neil. No matter how often he had to fly with the Wolves for away games, he still would try to get places by driving if he could help it, but even he had to admit that a 30 hour drive was ridiculous. Several glasses of vodka later and the plane was a little more bearable for the four hour flight west.

Andrew stopped eating with a spoonful of Nutella halfway to his mouth and simply raised one eyebrow.

“You know like, Minyard-Josten or Josten-Minyard. Or whatever. We’ve been married long enough.” Neil tried keeping eye-contact with Andrew but failed spectacularly as he trailed off towards the end of his sentence.

Their wedding had been a rushed courthouse affair Neil’s fifth year when he had gotten checked so roughly he had ended up in the hospital and Andrew hadn’t been allowed to go into his hospital room. The next day they had dragged Kevin in from Houston and were signing papers in a courthouse in Columbia. The Foxes had all found out in quick succession after Renee had come to visit and casually forced the story out of Andrew, but so far only they, Jeremy, and Jean knew.

“I’m not putting on a show for a bunch of reporters.” Andrew went back to leaning on the counter in the kitchen and eating Nutella straight from the jar, wrecking his meal plan one mouthful after another.

“Not for them.” Neil’s voice had somehow gotten quieter. “For us.”

Andrew hummed noncommittally and Neil dropped the subject, turning it to something more mundane and less likely to irritate Andrew.

 

Right before the Queen’s next home game, Neil’s coach presented him with a jersey that had Minyard printed on the back.

“Minyard showed up in my office this morning, told me a couple of curious facts about the two of you and requested that I give you this.”

Neil just grinned and quickly changed into it, shoving his old jersey with “Josten 10” on the back into his bag.

The roar when he stepped out on the court and someone noticed the name change on the back of his jersey was deafening.

Jeremy just laughed and slapped him on the back. “Nice, Neil.”

Kayla’s jaw had dropped and Jean snorted before calling over his congratulations in French. Neil was ready to fight the world; the Queens won 12-3.

 

Andrew had refused to talk about Neil with anyone on his team. While he had begrudgingly made almost friends with a few of the backliners on the Wolves, he still mostly kept to himself (especially considering most of his free time was spent in a city that was some 2,000 miles away). When he walked out wearing “Josten 3” on his back, he was met with stunned silence on the part of his team and a symphony of screams and camera shutters.

 

Afterwards, Neil’s post-game interview was anything but what the press wanted.

Andrew flat out refused to meet with the press and instead changed in record time in order to slip out to the Maserati to watch the Queens’ interviews on his phone.

“You’re not wearing Josten on the back of your jersey anymore-”

“Wow, aren’t you observant?” Neil cut in before the reporter had a chance to finish.

“Care to comment on why?”

“No.” Neil tried turning around to finish packing up but the press was having none of it.

“Were you aware that Andrew Minyard also walked out on the court tonight wearing a different jersey than usual?”

Neil looked up, surprise flitting across his face for a half second before his feral smile was back. “No.”

“Do you have any comment on it?”

Neil pretended to think about it for a moment. “Ah, nope.” He popped the “p” before pushing past the mass of reporters and purposefully walking out of the room.

 

The press ran a story the next day about the “brotherly affection” that was growing between the two. Neil blanched when he saw it and called Andrew.

“We’re changing them. I never want to see our names and ‘brotherly affection’ in the same sentence ever again.”

“750%.”

 

Their next games Andrew and Neil came out with “Minyard-Josten” and “Josten-Minyard,” respectively, on their backs.

Jeremy found it hilarious, and Jean commented in amused French, but the rest of the team couldn’t get Neil to budge an inch on it.

Andrew’s team didn’t even try, they just went on with business as usual and were more than a little brutal to the players that threw homophobic comments Andrew’s way. Several people were yellow carded, and one of their best backliners was red carded after a particularly nasty check, but the grin he sent Andrew’s way as he was being escorted off the court showed he thought it was worth it.

 

They kept it up for a few weeks, sometimes flopping between “Josten-Minyard” and “Minyard-Josten” between them (their coaches were getting less and less patient with the number of jersey requests they had gotten). When they played each other again, Neil stayed true to his promise and the Queens won 6-5, only barely making the goal past Andrew’s shoulder in the last 3 minutes of the second period. Andrew didn’t even bother waiting around for Neil to catch him post game, just snarled “873%” in fast Russian his way as he stomped off the court.

 

At one point, the press had tried approaching Kevin for his opinion on the rivalry, but the moment they posted the question, he doubled over laughing so hard that it was impossible to get anything quote-worthy from him.

He texted both Andrew and Neil afterwards, “you’re both idiots” and refused to comment on it during any post-game interviews from then on.

 

Neil slipped out of the locker room before he could be caught by the press for the latest Josten-Minyard twist that had caused a stir, and all but sprinted into the cab waiting for him outside. He hadn’t told Andrew that he was coming to Chicago tonight, so he was met with a very angry, half asleep Andrew wielding an old Exy racquet above his head.

“980% Josten.”

“Missed you too, Andrew.”

Neil shouldered past him to drop his things in the living room and say hello to a rather loudly meowing King Fluffkins.

“Those stupid jerseys are getting annoying.” Andrew threw over his shoulder as he retreated into the bedroom.

Neil picked up the cat and trotted in after him. “Do you want us to change it.”

Andrew grabbed the front of Neil’s shirt and pulled him close. “Yes or no?”

Neil sighed a yes into the soft space between them and Andrew kissed him with all the force of emotions he had felt about the whole name switch since the beginning.

“I didn’t say that, I’m just commenting.”

“Mmkay.”

They fell asleep both curled on their sides facing each other, with King Fluffkins balled up between them.

 

Two weeks later, they both entered the court with their own last names on their backs. The crowd went wild.

Jeremy faltered and Jean threw a concerned look his way.

Jean caught up with him during warm-up laps. “Qu’est-ce que ce passé?”

“Rien. Nous nous sommes ennuyés.” Neil shrugged, unbothered.

“D’accord.” Jean fell back to quietly reassure Jeremy without the others knowing.

The concerned crease didn’t leave the space between Jeremy’s eyes, but he didn’t bring it up with Neil, wisely enough.

 

The Queens lost 8-2.

 

“Neil, have you and Andrew Minyard ended your relationship?”

“Do you care to comment on the similar reversion to ‘Minyard’ that has appeared on the back of Andrew Minyard’s jersey tonight?”

“Are you single again? Or has someone new entered the picture?”

“Do you think that your respective pasts have made it too difficult to maintain a normal romantic relationship with each other? Is that what caused your breakup?”

The last one bit close enough to home to Neil that he stopped mid-stride and pivot back towards the triumphant looking reporter standing a few feet away from him.

His hand lashed out like a viper and grabbed viciously ahold of the reporter’s shirt. “I don’t know, does your incompetence and general idiocy keep you from doing your job? Obviously not since you’re a pathetic piece of shit who can’t provide any good commentary on the game itself so you decide to make a cheap shot at me and my history like the waste of a human being you are. To answer your question, no, it did not, thank you very fucking much.” Neil shoved the reporter back and spun back towards the entrance of the showers.

Jean left him a bottle of Johnny Walker in the back of his locker afterwards.

 

Andrew showed up sometime between when Neil fell asleep and dawn, stripping off his armbands and jeans before crawling in beside him in bed.  
“Tomorrow we’re switching back to the stupid fucking hyphenated ones.”

Neil smiled sleepily. “Okay.”

 

“Neil you’ve switched your jersey again, did anything in particular cause it?”

The Queens had just qualified for the playoffs and every other person in the room was buzzing with excitement about their third qualifying year in a row, but Neil was, as always, the exception.

Neil smiled to himself, a touch softer than the predatory one he usually reserved for the press and stopped towel drying his hair to respond.  
“Sorry, could you repeat the question?”  
The reporter stumbled back a step before gathering their courage and restating their question. “Do you have anything to say about the newest name change on your jersey?”

“Oh yeah,” he grinned straight into the camera. “My husband told me to pick one, and my coach threatened to stop printing me new jerseys.”

Jeremy burst into laughter somewhere to Neil’s right, and Jean called something offhanded over to him in French about it being damn time that they made a decision.

Neil’s phone beeped a text.  
“1000%”

**Author's Note:**

> Neil and Jean's conversation basically goes:
> 
> Jean: _"What happened?"_  
>  Neil: _"Nothing, we got bored."_
> 
> Like the little shits they are. 
> 
> Drop by on [tumblr](http://tooruoikawa.co.vu) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/virquo) to say hi!
> 
> EDIT:
> 
> [pls appreciate this beautiful art for this](http://broship-addict.tumblr.com/post/143830019647/aka-the-compilation-of-my-favourite-post-series)  
> brb crying in the corner

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] The Name Game](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9123247) by [frecklebombfic (frecklebomb)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/frecklebomb/pseuds/frecklebombfic)




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